


Behind The Sea

by ViolentThings27



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, Blood and Injury, Character Death, Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, Hurt/Comfort, Knight Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), M/M, Magic, Major Character Injury, Mild Sexual Content, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Prince GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, Symbolism, Violence, more tags as the fic updates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-15 00:07:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29180007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ViolentThings27/pseuds/ViolentThings27
Summary: It had become a habit at this point. His feet carrying him across the beach for hours on end, as he looked out over the sea, dreaming about a land behind the sea.It had become a habit at this point. His feet barely being able to carry him across the beach for hours, as he looked at the dagger in his hand, bleeding for the land behind the sea.George is a calm blue, but Dream can't stop seeing red.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 34





	1. Betrayal

**Author's Note:**

> hi! a few point before reading:  
> Don't repost my work anywhere.  
> TW at the start of every chapter.  
> I'm not sure if i'm going to write smut, but if I am, it will be skippable.  
> If any of the people in this fic are not ok with fanfic, i'll delete this.  
> English isn't my first language, so if there are any errors, don't be shy to correct me.

All the noise around them made their ears hurt. Clattering swords, hooves moving over stone, confused screams. The horses panicked as flaming arrows flew around them, lighting up the night. They were barely able to keep control over the horses as they started to prance and kick in panic. 

They were being ambushed. It had been a peaceful night for the Avalon army so far, maybe a few hiccups, but it was still a good night for travelling. The king had sent a small army, containing some of the best knights, to do a surprise attack on a Novo Mundo camp. 

They were in an open spot, surrounded by mountains. They had entered the mountains a few hours ago, when the sun was setting. The rough terrain made travelling difficult, but that also meant it was harder for the Mundians to flee.

It also made it easy for them to do a surprise attack on Avalon, apparently. 

"Punz, what's going on?" The knight leading the attack asked the man next to him. They were both on horses and both were wearing hooded capes, one wore an emerald colored one while the other wore a white one. 

"A traitor!" Punz yelled, eyes flitting around. A huge amount of people starting to come from the mountains that surrounded them. They weren't expecting to find the camp for another few hours, and nobody knew of this surprise attack besides the army and the king. Unless, like Punz said, there was a traitor. Someone must have told the other kingdom about the surprise attack.

"Dream, what do we do?" Punz asked the green hooded man. More and more people were appearing. They had archers on top of the mountains and dozens of men coming down with glowing armour, hinting at the use of magic. 

"Get everyone out here, they have the upper hand here!" Dream yelled, voice echoing over the confused yells behind him. "Callahan, Ant, Bad, Punz, we hold them back, okay?" 

Dream looked around frantically. They were coming from everywhere. He could see Niki ordering people around, making sure they got out of there. Callahan and Ant were fighting side by side, getting jumped by multiple men, but they were obviously stronger and more skilled. Mundians were overall built smaller than them, but they had other tricks up their sleeves to make up for that. On the other side he could see Punz effortlessly slashing through a group of Mundians. Punz threw a look over his shoulder, obviously enjoying the fight, and Dream smiled back at him. 

Adrenaline was flooding his veins now, setting his body on fire. He started running through the mass. Clenching a fist around the reins of his horse. It exited him, knowing he was better than all of them. He couldn't help feeling a sense of pride, knowing he'd be able to beat everyone, all while wearing the flag of his own country. He enjoyed the thrill of the fight. He loved being there in the crossfire, with his friends. He wasn't stupid, though, they had lost the element of surprise and they would lose too much lives if they would actually attack, so he just focussed on keeping them back. 

Dream was effortlessly moving through the mass, laughing at the Murdians trying to throw him off his horse, not a shimmer of fear in his body. His main priority was to eliminate as many of them as he could, so the others could make it out. Callahan was swinging his axe at someone, while carefully dodging the other's blows. Ant was next to him with a shield over his head to avoid being showered in arrows. Punz was standing over a Murdian, watching as the young looking boy scrambled away. And then you had Bad...

Bad?

Where was Bad? 

Panic rose up Dreams throat. He started looking around again. All he could see were scarlet crosses, printed the flags of the enemy. He had gotten so distracted looking for Bad, that he didn't see the archer coming from his left and the arrow had already struck his shoulder before he could react.

It didn't go through the chainmail, but it was enough for Dream to lose his balance. His sudden movement had startled his horse, and it had begun to prance. Before he knew it he was thrown off his horse. The fall was mostly caught by his armour and his hands immediately flew up to his head by instinct, hoping to protect it from thundering hooves above him. 

Dream's horse had fled the battleground and the blond uncurled himself. He rolled on his stomach, trying to spot his companions through the mass of legs. There was enough time for him so see a small figure that he recognised slip into a crack in the mountain wall. Badboyhalo. 

Why was he running away? 

Thinking Bad might be hurt, Dream pushed himself up and tried to make his way to the stone wall. He did it as fast as he could, since he really couldn't use a fight right now. Soon he could see a trail of blood leading to the crack. Scarlett drops contrasting heavily to the grey ground. The crack was a good hiding place, though. Bad was built way smaller than him and obviously had no difficulties slipping through it. For Dream, shuffling through the crack was hard. The armour that was tied to him made him move a lot stiffer and he winced when he heard his cape rip on a rough piece of stone that was sticking out behind him. After what took him longer than he'd like to admit, the blond stumbled through the crack. It led to a small ravine, that was a lot easier to move through. 

"Bad?" Dream yelled out, not even caring if someone followed him. Right now the only thing clouding his mind was concern for his friend. A small whimper was heard from the other side of the ravine and he sped up. 

"Bad? Bad are you okay?"

When he got there, the other was nowhere to be found. That's what it seemed like at least. A small pool of blood hinted at Bad having been there, so he kept following the trace. 

Dream was already pinned against the wall before he could register the figure colliding against his side. The blond groaned at the impact of the rocks. He turned and looked down into a pair of blue eyes that he could recognise everywhere.

"Bad?" 

"The one and only"

"What-" A surprised laugh escaped Dream's mouth, "what are you doing? Are you hurt?" The taller tried to step away from the wall, eyes scanning Bad's body for any injuries, but was immediately pinned back against it. There was an abnormal amount of strength coming from Bad, which should have been the first sign that something was truly wrong. Don't get him wrong, Bad was a skilled fighter, praised for his swiftness and how skilled he was with an axe. He just wasn't as strongly built as others, Dream for example, and it should have been impossible for him to pin him against a wall like this. 

Why was Bad even pinning him against the wall? 

"Look, I don't know what the fuck you think you're doing here, but you're clearly not injured and people are fighting for their lives out there." Dream spat. 

Bad's body started shaking with laughter, confusing Dream even more.

''Oh, sweet, naïve, Dream of mine.'' Bad tutted.

There was a knife against Dreams throat. 

"You're the traitor." He said, voice barely above a whisper. The cold metal bobbed against his windpipe, leaving a little trail of blood gushing down his neck. He threw his head back against the wall, trying to avoid more cuts. The knife followed him, Bad now pressing his entire body weight against him.

"That took you long to figure out." His voice was higher than normal, and had a sharp tone to it, making him sound insane. 

Dream's head was reeling. Thousands questions and emotions going through him. He stuttered for a bit before coming to the only question that mattered to him in that moment.  
"W-why?"

"Why is that even a question? Why be on the side of Avalon, a bunch of nobody's, when you can be part of Novo Mundo? I don't know if you've heard the rumours, but they have something no one has.

Magic, Dream.

They have magic.

Besides, do you really think you can accept me the way they can? I have never been able to truly be myself when i was with Avalon. 

And at the end of the day, I can just side with whoever I want! And I can fan the flames of war. Whatever side I think is losing, right, I just join in and help that side. So then I can just keep the conflict going. It's great! Let the war between Avalon and Novo Mundo be total chaos. Novo Mundo, Avalon, who cares?"

A smile spread over Bad's face, revealing his extremely sharp canine teeth. His now glowing eyes were bathing the ravine in a red light. Now Dream knew; there was definitely something wrong. 

"What are you?"

The question made Bad cackle at him. This... thing was laughing at him. His friend had betrayed him and he had the nerve to laugh at his face.

''You're a nice guy, Dream, and trust me it pains me to do this to you, but I can't have anyone ruin this. And besides, would you have accepted me if you knew what I am?''

"What are you?"

"Better than you'll ever be"


	2. Refusal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Possible TW: mentions of death, injury and blood, violence. (let me know if I missed anything)  
> No proof read we die like George in Manhunt

“Badboyhalo, are you coming?” An unfamiliar voice boomed from at the top of the ravine. Dream flinched, not expecting the loud voice. Bad didn’t expect it either, flinching when he heard his name.

Dream took advantage of Bad being distracted, and pushed himself off the wall. Bad also didn’t see this coming, and they both tumbled to the ground, Dream on top. The others eyes had turned back to their normal colour, a clear cerulean sparkling with tears. His teeth were still just as sharp as before, carving slightly into the flesh of his bottom lip.

“Everything okay down there?”

“Everything is _just_ fine.” Bad replied, leaving out the green hooded man that had him pinned against the floor. Dream pressed him down with everything he could, using his entire body weight to hold him down.

He had no clue what to do.

This was one of his best friends. They had known each other for _years_ , having grown up together. Bad had been there through their entire training, during their first patrol, their first real fight. And yet he chose to be, literally, _bad._

It hurt, having his best friend keep something this important from him. Dream didn’t even know what Bad was, but he would have accepted it if he had just talked about it. He was sure of it.

“Bad, it’s not too late yet. We can just go back together, they don’t have to know it was you. We can still fix this.” Dream didn’t even try to keep the desperation out of his voice.

It had started raining and he could already feel the rain coming through his armour, seeping through his clothes. He had to blink tears and rain out of his eyes. Bad was struggling under him, face no longer having that shit-eating grin on it. The smaller gave up pretty fast

“You honestly think that? Dream look at you! You’re a mess, you’ve always been a mess. You’re just a little boy that knows nothing about the real world, you just think it’s all sunshine and rainbows, just having little fights with your little friends by your side. Grow up, Dream.”

“ _Bad,_ I-”

Dream had been so focused on Bad that he had forgotten about the voice that came from the top of the ravine . He was quickly reminded, though, when he was pulled off the smaller by his hood. The fabric was digging painfully into his throat and his hands flew up to it to try and release some of the pressure.

A gasp escaped his mouth when his back collided with the wall. The blond groaned, trying to get up but slipping on the wet ground. The collision had made his body ache, and his body was trembling.

“Schlatt, you actually came.”

_Who the fuck is Schlatt?_

Dream looked up just in time to see a tall man, Schlatt, helping Bad up from the ground. The man had a pair of thick horns growing from the sides of his head, a mop of brown curls surrounding them. The man wasn’t even wearing armour, just a big cloak covered in brown fur.

It took Dream longer than he’d like to admit to stand up, but that didn’t matter, since this man was a too occupied helping Bad. While standing up, he had the chance seeing that this man had hooves. Was it even a man? The horns could have been passed off as a headpiece, but _hooves?_

“Who’s this?” Schlatt’s voice echoed, the noise bouncing off the stone walls of the ravine.

“Nobody, let’s get out of here.” Bad hurried to say, tugging on Schlatt’s sleeve. He looked at Dream pleadingly, silently begging him to keep his mouth shut. Bad was _scared._

Oh, how the tabled have turned.

“It didn’t sound like you were talking to nobody, though.” Schlatt walked up to Dream, who was leaning against the wall, trying to keep upright. The man wasted no time, speeding up to Dream.

“Who are you?” The blond scrunched his nose when he was met with spit and the strong scent of alcohol.

“My name is Dream.” It came out softer than he intended to, barely above a mumble.

“Look me in the eyes when you speak to me, _boy.”_ A claw-like hand grabbed his jaw, forcing his head up. The sharp, raven coloured nails digging painfully into his skin when he refused to look the man in the eyes.

“I-,” he cleared his throat, “I’m Dream.” Normally he didn’t have any trouble keeping eye contact with people, but Schlatt’s yellow glowing eyes unnerved him.

“Well, _Dream,_ here’s the thing. You just had to stick your nose into other people’s business, didn’t you? Yeah, you seem like that type of guy. Well, I’m afraid I have to get rid of you, Dream.”

Dream couldn’t move, too mesmerized by the golden glow of Schlatt’s eyes. He could get why Bad was scared of him. Something about this man was off. It could have been the tone of his voice, the way he spoke with the confidence of a thousand men, the words he said slightly slurred. Maybe it was the fact that he definitely wasn’t human.

“What are you?” Dream didn’t know where he got the confidence from to ask this, but his courage overshined his fear and the question fell out of his mouth.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Well, what are you? Are you the same thing as Bad? I don’t think so, but you never know. You might have _some_ similarities. It-”

Dream wasn’t able to stop his rambling, but the backhanded slap across his face certainly was.

Schlatt could have done anything. He could have stabbed him, could have reached through his ribcage – he probably had the strength to actually do that – and rip his heart out. But this was one of the worst things he could have done, it was _embarrassing,_ humiliating. And Schlatt definitely knew that, judging by the huge grin on his face.

Dream was fuming, and didn’t bother to even try to cooperate.

So he spit in Schlatt’s face.

“Fuck you’’

It was silent for a moment. Dream was frozen as he watched the taller close his eyes slowly. A deep sign came from his mouth. The claw-like hand was raised to his face, wiping the spit off of his face. Then the laugh came. It started out as a giggle, but it slowly turned into a loud, high pitched cackle.

“You’re feisty aren’t you?”

“Schlatt, maybe we should just let him go.” Bad laid a hand on schlatt’s shoulder, which was quickly shaken off.

“I want you to kill him, BadBoyHalo.” Schlatt didn’t even look at him, golden gaze only for Dream.

“Look, Schlatt, we can still get out of here-”

The horned man turned around, scarily fast for a man with that big of a build. He was towering over Bad, who seemed _tiny_ compared to him.

This was it. This was when Dream had a way to get out of there, so he started climbing. He knew this was his only chance. If he got back to the crack they would notice, and it would take him too long to get through it. The other side of the ravine was also not an option, thinning quickly until the two walls connected.

The armour made it a lot harder on him, weighing him down. The wet rock was slippery under his feet and the rain made his eyes sting, but he didn’t have time to be careful right now. The first few feet were easy, and Schlatt hadn’t even noticed yet, too busy arguing with Bad.

The rock wall became steeper and steeper and the rocks became harder to climb. The gaps in the stone that he could use as handles became smaller and less frequent pretty quick, and he still had around twenty feet to go.

Dream looked down, seeing that he was almost twelve feet from the ground. What was weird, though, that Schlatt and Bad had stopped arguing. They were watching him with huge grins on their face, not even trying to stop him. The stares sent a shiver down his back, but he wasn’t going to let their burning stares stop him from getting out of there. He wondered how Punz was holding up.

He looked up, trying to find a gap or a ledge that he could use to get higher. He still had around eighteen feet to go. The next point he could grab was a piece of rock sticking out. Dream tried to grab it, but he could just barely graze the stone with his fingertips. Without thinking he jumped, pulling himself up. When he pulled himself up to stand on a tiny ledge, his body was trembling from the exertion

Schlatt and Bad’s gazes were still burning his back.

The further Dream climbed, the harder it got. He was now thoroughly soaked, making his armour even heavier. His hands weren’t any better, they were covered in little cuts and scrapes and his fingers were starting to hurt from the cold. The cutting wind wasn’t helping either.

Schlatt and Bad were making him nervous now, and without thinking he looked down. He really shouldn’t have done that.

Twenty-five feet was higher than he thought.

On the bottom of the ravine Schlatt was grinning at him, while bad gave Dream a little wave. They were waiting for him to fall.

Dream could do this, it was only a couple of feet to go. His entire body was aching and he was getting dizzy, but he couldn’t give up. Not now.

_Twenty-five feet._

If he didn’t look down he’d be fine. Just don’t look down.

He had to make another jump to get to the next ledge. Without thinking too much about the distance, he jumped. Fingers hooked around the edge. Dream tried to pull himself up, but he lost his grip on the wet rock.

He was falling.

Dream barely registered the scream filling the air – _his_ scream.

Dream barely registered the crack when he made contact with the ground.

He didn’t even feel much pain at first, too shocked by what just happened. Vision filling with black around the edges. A couple of loud cackles caught his attention, though, bringing him back to reality. Bringing him back to pain. Everything _hurt_.

“Should have seen that one coming, _Dream.”_ Schlatt mocked, cackling.

He must have fallen on his left side, since he still had feeling in the right side. Adrenaline had filled his veins, it made him forget about the pain and exhaustion. It made him prob himself up against the rock wall behind him. He couldn’t stand, but he wasn’t going to die. He refused to die. With a wince he grabbed the knife that rested against his calf, hidden under his boot. It was going to help lots, but he _wasn’t going to die._

“You just won’t die, huh.”

Schlatt held his hand up, beckoning Bad for a weapon. Once Bad had fished a small knife from his cloak, Schlatt began walking to Dream.

“You honestly think you’re going to survive this?” Schlatt made a stabbing motion towards Dream, cackling that awful laugh when Dream flinched. He was obviously playing with him. Schlatt did it again, and again.

“Come on, stab me, you coward!” Dream spit. This was worse than dying.

Dream had enough, lashing out with his knife. It made him wince, but the deep cut on Schlatt’s leg was worth it. The man yelled out and grabbed his leg, cursing under his breath.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Schlatt grunted. “I’ve had enough of you.”

There was a hand on his throat, nails digging in and making him gasp for air. Schlatt made sure to make eye contact with Dream, before licking a stripe across his hand and smearing the spit on Dream’s cheek.

“Goodbye, Dream.”

A knife came flying to towards the left side of his face. Dream was waiting for the final blow.

It never came.

Instead Dream woke up screaming, covered in sweat, heart beating out of his chest. The blond’s hand flew to the golden necklace around his neck, fingers tracing over the intricate patterns engraved in the medal. It was an old coin, that he and Punz had found when they were kids. Dream had wanted to throw it away, since he didn’t think it was useful, but Punz was weirdly determined to keep it. Dream looked at the now familiar figure on the coin. It was a man with a crown, a king probably, and had the initials G.H.D on it.

Dream sat up and cradled his head in his hands for a second. He’s been having these kind of dreams a lot lately, but this week was particularly tough

He could see that it was still dark out, since he hadn’t bothered closing his curtains.

Dream stood up, faltering slightly before grabbing his bedpost to keep his balance. He went to grab clothes, but he caught his reflection in the mirror.

He had changed a lot since that night a year ago, he didn’t have a babyface anymore, even grown a little stubble. He had also grown his hair out. It was reaching past his ears right now, but he couldn’t care enough to keep it short and healthy anymore. The youthful glow had disappeared out of his eyes, one of them being a dull light grey.

He studied his naked chest in the reflection of his mirror. Scars burning under his touch as he slowly traced over them. He used to be proud of his scars, showing them off to his friends once they were fully healed. It used to be a good thing to have scars, it meant that you had lots of experience. Now he just thought they were ugly. His ribs and hipbones were poking out now, since he didn’t get the big meals he used to have in the castle. He just was a thinner, worse person than he used to be.

He wasn’t as quick anymore. Some nights he went to an open field in the forest, practising combat on random mobs that crossed his way. He wasn’t as coordinated anymore, due to one side of his face barely being able to see, and his legs still being sore sometimes. That was his weak spot. He kept practising though, training to be as good again as he used to be. Deep down the blond knew he would never be that good again, but a small part of him would always hope to be the person he used to be.

He still owned his cape, and it still had the blue-green flag of Avalon on it.

People respected him, even liked him, but he wasn’t ready for friendly talk, knowing they’d ask something about his years as a knight. He was a legend, a skilled teenager that was so talented that even the king congratulated him on it. He was turned head of a small army when he was only nineteen

But then the Ambush of Avalon happened.

They had lost.

He should have seen it coming, but the red glow coming from Bad’s eyes caught him of guard. Hell, that whole army scared him. He had heard rumours about the witchcraft, and the hybrids that ruled Novo Mundo. But to see it… it was terrifying.

He had made it out alive, unlike a lot of his army. That horned hybrid thought he was dead when he saw him laying on the stone ground. Dream even thought he was dead. He still felt the terror some nights, when he woke up with a pounding heart. Some nights was back in that small ravine. He would be laying on the ground, face covered in blood. He could feel the red fluid spill in his left eye and into his mouth, choking him. He couldn’t move though, still feeling the eyes of that hybrid on him.

They thought he was dead.

The few people that survived came back later, trying to find other survivors. They had found him writhing in a pool of his own blood, in pure panic. 

The panic was even worse when they had brought him back to the castle. Dream noticed that he couldn’t see. He thought it was just because there was blood in his eyes. But the bandage that covered his eyes got removed eventually, and he _still_ couldn’t see. He’d started hyperventilating, lashing out at the nurses and his friends around him. He remembers how he’d run to the mirror, and how the panic only got worse. On the left side of his face was a white slash, surrounded by pinkish skin. His once bright green eye was a blurry grey. He had touched his sore skin, feeling the leather like scar tissue.

He was supposed to talk to the king that night. There was going to be a ceremony for the people that they had lost. Dream was supposed to speak in front of all the citizens in Avalon. But he couldn’t show himself like this. Not in front of everybody. He didn’t think that he deserved the praise. It was ridiculous to be praised simply for not dying.

He remembered how Niki had come in, she was bringing him nice clothes for the ceremony that night, but stopped in her tracks when she saw Dream studying himself in the mirror. She had held him to her chest as tears started to spill from his eyes.

Niki was nice. Niki and dream were together during their entire recovery. He had remembered how sad Niki had been when she found out she would have a limp for her entire life. He had comforted her when she couldn’t sleep, too haunted by the nightmares. And to be honest, it helped him too. He remembered being there when Fundy was helping her walk again. He couldn’t see because of the bandages covering his eyes, but he could hear their exited yells when she took her first steps since the ambush.

That night, the night of the ceremony, she had given him a mask. It had a lopsided smile on it, and she had said how it reminded it of Dreams smile. Niki also gave him Punz’s necklace, and both items were on his body ever since.

The ceremony went well, with Niki and Fundy by his side, helping him.

They weren’t next to his side when he had packed his stuff that evening, leaving the castle, and moving to a small village close to the border of the country. Dream had left a note, pleading them to not be mad at him for leaving, even asking them to visit once in a while.

They never did.

It had become a habit at this point. His feet carrying him across the beach for hours on end, every single night. He never really cared about the weather. It could be snowing and you’d still find him walking barefoot on this particular beach. The soft sand felt nice between his toes.

He was a bit later than usual this night. The moon was already high above the sea level, bathing it in a silver glow. It was a cold night again. Every gust of wind made chills appear and every breath that came out of his mouth created a little cloud, that could be seen peaking from under his mask. He didn’t care about the cold, it helped him get his mind off of things.

There was something about this beach. He couldn’t put his finger on why he liked this spot, it just gave his mind a break. It was hard to focus on bad thoughts when you can only hear the clashing of waves on a stormy night, or the seagulls crying out above him.

He’d take a few steps in the water on the warmer nights. But it didn’t seem like that was going to happen tonight. Dream couldn’t swim, but that didn’t matter to him. The blond didn’t think you need to know how to swim to enjoy the beach.

A low hum was emitted from him. A slow, sad tune. It fitted the night perfectly. If Dream had to give the night a colour, it would be a mix of purple and blue. Indigo, Iris, maybe even a Prussian blue. It was a weird night, he didn’t know why, though. Something was… _off._

The thing that was off had probably something to do with the silhouette in the distance. Outline blurry, far away. Nobody ever came to this beach, not at this time. The high walls of rock could be dangerous in the dark if you weren’t familiar with them, so it was a wonder this stranger had made it down safely.

The shape got clearer way quicker than Dream thought. As if time didn’t exist here. It could have been minutes, maybe even hours that he’d been walking. The person wasn’t moving though, just standing there, waiting, looking out over the silver waves.

“Hello?”

A nod came from the person. They were wearing a slightly oversized overcoat with a gilet and button up peaking out under it, so it had to be a man. His face was invisible, covered by the shadow his hat gave him.

“Can I ask what you’re doing here?” Dream asked.

“What are _you_ doing here?” The man retorted. He had a weird accent, but Dream had heard it somewhere before, didn’t know where, though.

“Just on a walk, I guess.”

“On a walk?”

“You’re hard to talk to.”

The other laughed at that, and now fully turned to Dream, instead of looking over the sea. He now noticed that the man was a lot smaller than Dream. If this man was a potential threat, he could easily take him out. Well, that’s also what he thought about Bad.

“Nightmares, you know,’’ Dream said, filling the silence lingering in the air, “mad in the head.” He tapped a finger against his temple, indicating that he wasn’t feeling too well.

The other seemed to be thinking for a few seconds before asking how often he has these nightmares. Dream had no idea why he was so interested in this, but it felt nice. It had been ages since he had talked to someone, and it wasn’t even about the lack of sleep he was experiencing because of nightmares. It wasn’t even about the ever lasting memories of his friends, that he had to leave behind. This was a stranger though, he didn’t even know his name.

“Why are you so interested in this?” Dream asked.

The smaller shrugged, small sound coming from his lips. He looked away from dream

“I could help you with that.”

_He could what now?_

Dream nodded before he could comprehend that he actually moved, he pleaded and begged this man to help him, hands digging into the others shoulders. This man could help him, heal him, get him to _sleep_. He knows he will be embarrassed by the way he’s acting right now, but he’d do anything for a good night of sleep.

The man complied, asking if he was ready. When Dream s

“I don’t feel so good.”

“I know.”

“What?”

“Let’s lay down for a second okay?” Against Dream’s will, his legs gave in and he sunk to the ground. The stranger caught him just on time, hands under his shoulders, slowly lowering Dream to the ground. His head was now laying on the strangers lap. His whole body was tingly, feeling like heated gold.

The next thing to loose feeling were his arms. It felt like he was laying under layers of rocks, pushing him to the ground and keeping him there. The stranger was mumbling things in his ear, while raking a hand through Dream’s blonde locks. The mumble sounded like a nice melody, a soft harmony, almost. He didn’t even notice that the entire beach had gone silent. No seagulls. No waves hitting the shore. Nothing. Only the strangers music.

Dream barely registered the alarm bells going off in his head when his tongue got numb. He began spluttering softly, not able to put his energy into words. It was just like that night. _That fucking night._ Not being able to talk, call for help, blood everywhere. He could almost feel the blood slipping into his mouth. He could almost feel the thick fluid moving to his throat, making him choke, unable to breathe.

“You’re okay, I’m just helping you, you’re safe.”

The hands were back in his hair again, grounding him, bringing him back to the present.

“Goodnight, _Dream_.” A hand touched his forehead, words were mumbled, and Dream felt peaceful for the first time in a year.

He spent the rest of the night on that beach, dreaming about a land behind the sea.


	3. Melancholy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya, it took me a while, but here it is! I'm not happy with how it turned out but I have no idea what i could do to fix it.  
> TW for chapter three: blood, mention of injury, panic attack. Let me know if I missed anything!  
> (Don't repost my work, recommending is ok with credit of course!)

**November**

Waking up in the sand was definitely a new experience. Dream’s whole body felt sore, and coldness had seeped into his bones. He felt good though, a little confused on why he fell asleep on the beach, but he still had a good night of sleep.

He thought about yesterday, about the strange man he met. The nausea, the world spinning around him as the stranger comforted him with a hand in his hair. Dream’s hand went to the blond locks, stroking where the almost ghostly hand had yesterday. It was knotted and full of sand now, a result of the rough night. His clothes were covered in damp sand, and he quickly tried to wipe it off of his green overcoat.

Dream pushed himself up and started to head back to the village, moving easily through the rough cliffs. The sun was shining but it didn’t provide any warmth to the frigid day. It was nearing winter, and Dream could see that when he walked through town. Everywhere people were buzzing with energy, making preparations for the harsh winter that’s coming. The vibrant atmosphere helped him wake up a bit.

He was almost home when he noticed a new building he had never seen before, Dream had wandered around this town enough to have it memorised. It was a small shop, and if you weren’t paying attention you would have missed it. It had a cracked cobblestone wall with dark wood and the display window had golden cursive letters on it. “ _Antiques And Collectables’’_

A chime echoed through the store when Dream walked in. The store looked abandoned from the inside, a big layer of dust coating the various products on the shells. He walked through the aisles, fingers brushing over the shelves, collecting grime on the tips. The owner of the store was nowhere to be seen.

This store had _everything **,**_ from basic items like cutlery, jewellery, books, to objects that he had never seen before. Like the phonograph in the corner, which was playing a slow but cheery tune. He had heard of those before, but he had never seen one like this, being used to newer models.

Dream didn’t notice the door behind the counter open, too busy holding a part of a weird smelling plant under his mask, trying to figure out where he recognised the smell from. The plants all had their own little station, with a name under it, written in a dark cursive. _Thyme?_

“Well hello… masked person”

Dream jumped when a voice behind him appeared, hand subconsciously flying to the knife pressed against his thigh. He whipped his head around, heart beating out of his chest, and was instantly met with a pair of eyes. A shorter man was standing behind him with his arms crossed and a friendly smile on his face.

“Can I help you?”

It took Dream multiple tries to give a coherent answer, still startled by the sudden appearance. “Just having a look around. Since when does this place exist?”

He turned in a circle, taking the store in once more. Now that he looked again he saw even more stuff. There were old birdcages hanging from the ceiling and even more pots with herbs, a ladder set up against the wall in case you needed to get one of them. There was a writing section, full of quills, different kinds of ink and a particular machine Dream had never seen before. All the shelves were neat and organised with golden cursive letters decorating them. How much stuff does this guy have? How did set all of this up overnight?

“I just moved in here yesterday, my house is above the store.” The owner said, waving his hand up to point to the ceiling. The man had a weird accent. Dream had heard it before, but he couldn’t place where.

“Well, welcome in Sarlat…” Dream let out an awkward chuckle, hand scratching the back of his head, remembering that he never got the others name. He must have looked like a mess, knotted hair and sandy clothes

“My name’s George, nice to meet you, _Dream._ Seriously, first the mask and then this strange name?”

_How does he know his name?_

“How do you know my name?” Dream’s shoulders tensed, weirded out by this foreign man knowing his name. George barked out a laugh, looking at him as if he was crazy.

“You just told me, silly.”

No he didn’t.

He didn’t, did he? He reflected on the short conversation. He must have mentioned his name, there was no way that this total stranger knew his name.

“Oh, yeah, must have forgot.” Dream made the same gesture with his hand that he did yesterday evening, portraying himself as mental, mad in the head. At this point he started to feel like he was at least.

“Have we met before?” He asked, because it couldn’t have been that they have never seen each other, ever. If there was a new person in town, Dream would have heard it already. Rumours went around fast in Sarlat.

George had walked behind the counter, wiping away the dust with an effortless sweep. Revealing the glass encasing a collection of various daggers. “No, I think I just have one of those faces”

George certainly had one of those faces. Standing in the golden glow of the sun, that was peeking through the linen curtains, he looked _ethereal,_ bathing in the light that gave him a halo. The rays sharpening his cheekbones, eyes turning a warm walnut colour. Dream would have even dared to say that he looked _pretty._

George would have been a blue, azure with an aegean hue. He would have been the waves of the sea crashing against the shore, he would have been the dark night sky on a July night. He would smell like eucalyptus, peppermint, a hint of berries, maybe.

“Like what you’re seeing?”

“W-what?”

“The daggers, you like them?”

“Oh- They’re cool I guess.” Dream forced himself to look away from George. He had to admit, the daggers were just as stunning. The cross-guards and sheaths beautifully decorated. They had swirls and other patterns engraved in them. One caught his eye, though. It had an elegant blade, the emeralds and rubies in the handle glittering in the sunlight.

“That one’s especially nice isn’t it?” Dream nodded and watched as George carefully took it out of the display case, his pale hand carefully wrapping around the handle. He wiped it with a cloth and handed it to Dream. He studied it for a while, feeling the nice weight of it in his palm and tried threw it skilfully in the air, testing it out. The dagger made a spin in the air before landing back in the palm of Dream’s hand.

“Jesus, Dream, be careful!” Dream laughed at Georges reaction, doubling over when he saw his wide eyes staring at him shocked. “Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing.” He said in between his giggles.

“No, you don’t, give it back.” George pulled the dagger from the other’s hand. Dream tried to ignore the tingling feeling when their hands brushed, tried to ignore the thoughts that the touch gave him. He wondered how his hand would feel in his. They were warm, unlike his. He wondered how big they would be compared to Georges.

“Apparently there’s a whole legend behind this one. The person that gave it to me said that it could only kill the person the owner hates the most, which is pretty useless if you ask me. But I’m pretty sure that it’s not tr- what is that?”

George stopped his sentence midway, eyes widening when he saw the object around Dream’s neck. Dream felt heat rise to his face under the other’s scrutinizing stare. “What do you want for that necklace?”

“What? I’m not giving you my necklace.”

“Why not? Come on, thirty gold coins, what do you say?” The smaller had a smirk on his face, obviously trying to get on his nerves. And it was _working._

“No.”

“Fifty coins _and_ this dagger?” The smaller had a smirk on his face, obviously trying to get on his nerves. And it was _working._

“Give up, George, I’m not giving you this.”

“It’s just a necklace.”

Dream snapped, hand flying to the sheath on his thigh. He was quick with the knife and he didn’t give George any time to react before the blade was pressed against his throat. Dream felt satisfaction in the scared look in those amber eyes. They were so close now that he could feel the heat radiating off of Georges body, chests pressing together, breath fanning over the others face. The height difference was even more noticeable now, when was looking down at the other man.

“Wow, calm down with the knife there buddy, you need to learn some manners.” It was funny seeing the calm and collected George tripping on his tongue. Fun seeing the shiver run down his back.

“You need to learn to shut the _fuck_ up.” Dream made sure to press the blade a bit harder before pushing himself off of the other’s chest. George audibly gasped, air filling his lungs again, feeling a few scarlet drops tickle down his neck. Dream rushed to the entrance, trying to hide the tears welling in his eyes. He hadn’t meant to hurt George, it just _happened_. It was George’s fault, right?

Dream closed the door behind him with a bang and leaned against it, catching his breath. The crisp air that filled his lungs made him feel better. Everything was red. Maroon sky. Ruby air. Crimson blood.

It didn’t feel like his home, but the small house was a lot more welcoming than the outside world, especially right now. Dream let himself sink to his knees, back against the door. The grey light that filtered through his curtains made it feel cold. The coolness was welcome now. It calmed him down for just a moment, putting out the fire inside of him. He had seen red, he had hurt someone.

_I’m sorry I hurt him, Punzie._

The weight of the necklace around his neck comforted him, Punz was always by his side, and he wouldn’t want it any other way. Nobody could take him away, not even this George guy. Punz wouldn’t have wanted Dream to hurt him over it, though. It was just a stupid necklace. He could say the same about the mask. Both were just objects, they shouldn’t have any worth, but for Dream they had.

Dream loosened the clasp behind his head, letting the mask fall off his face. He was free again. Free to breathe, free to be _him._ His skin was red, irritated from the sides of the mask digging into it. He had an habit of putting it on too tight, and he always regretted it after a long day of wearing it, but he couldn’t afford to lose it when he was out.

He stood up, putting on one of his discs. _Mellohi._ Slow, haunting, perfect. He was standing in front of the window, basking in the leftover sunlight. It was going to rain tonight, the clouds taking over the sky, sun fighting to let her rays shine through them.

A heavy feeling in Dream’s pocket distracted him. How could he have missed the weight of a certain blade? He had felt it before, the way fit in his hand so nicely, with a perfect weight. _Surely it couldn’t be…_

The dagger was in George’s antique store, laying in the glass display case, the counter. It had no business being in Dreams house, in his bedroom, on his _pocket_. How was it there? Had he taken it? No, he couldn’t have. It was in a locked display case, he couldn’t have unintentionally grabbed it. Dream wasn’t a thief. He was a man of honour, he wouldn’t commit a petty crime like this. Not for a stupid dagger.

George had to have done it. How though? He hadn’t felt the other’s hands slip into his pockets. Besides Dream’s outburst of rage, he hadn’t been close to him. The jewels were glimmering in the grey rays, taunting him. The clash of the dagger falling to the wooden floor was deafening.

Dream’s hands started to shake. Heart pounding loudly in his chest, wanting him to rip it open. He didn’t do it. He didn’t steal it. Maybe he really was crazy, maybe this is what it felt like to go mad. It _hurt._ His whole body hurts as he starts hyperventilating. Before he knew it he was back there, in that ravine. He couldn’t breathe, blood clogging up his throat. The side of his face was open, thick, scarlet fluid filling his eyes, blinding him. He remembered how the thick liquid felt in his throat while he was spluttering, unable to breathe. Waiting for Schlatt and Bad to walk away, leave him for death.

The world was spinning, vision getting blurry. Dream took a few steps into the direction of his bed, tumbling onto it. His clammy hands grabbed at his pillow, which he shoved his face into. It getting worse and worse, a stupid thing like a dagger triggering him, sending him back to that night. He had to escape, leave the ravine. The soft pillow was a nice difference from the rough stone ground. It didn’t scrape his hands as he crawled to what he hoped was a safer place. Everything hurt too much. He felt his body twitching, trying to move away from the cause of pain. Sobs racked through his body. Mellohi was distant now. A distorted white noise in the back of his mind.

The man was barely visible through teary eyes, merely a shadow standing in front of the window. But his presence was undeniable. Soft features were seen in the cold light, but Dream couldn’t focus on them. He was holding the dagger, rolling it skilfully between his fingers. He didn’t pay any attention to the man laying on the bed, shaking like a leaf, while painful stabs sparked his body.

The man in the window said nothing. Even his steps were silent when he walked towards the bed where Dream laid. The blond didn’t notice the bed dip when the stranger sat down. He was shushing Dream’s whimpers, running a hand through his hair. The stranger was comforting, a stark contrast to yesterday. Even though he couldn’t make out his features, he knew it was the same person. He recognised the hand running through his hair, soothing him, whispering unintelligible words into his ear with his soft voice.

Peaceful. A soft Lavender, Thistle, Violet.


	4. Amaranthine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amaranthine (Adjective) unfading, eternal, immortal, infinite. Etymology: From amaranth, referring to the color of the flowers. amaranthine (Adjective) relating to the imaginary amaranth flower that never fades.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyy just a few things for if it wasnt clear yet:  
> Dnf isn't real, sorry to say it to ya. But i just mean that this is fiction, just a story i made up when i was twelve and i replaced the two main characters with them. We don't know how they are irl, this is just based on their characters.  
> If they ever come forward that they're uncomfortable about it, then this will be deleted.  
> I don't think there are any TW for this chapter.  
> I give updates on my twitter its @ViolentThings2  
> Sorry for the wait, have fun reading!

“I knew you’d come back, tea?”

George was sitting at a table in the middle of the store, kettle in hand. He didn’t wait for the green hooded man to say something, already filling a cup with hot water. Dream stood in doorway, confused. Arms sore from carrying the heavy box in his arms.

“I made peppermint tea.” The brunette was still talking, as if Dream wasn’t even there. Dream set the box on the table, making George look up.

“I don’t think I’m going to stay here for long, I just wanted to apologize for yesterday. I shouldn’t have reacted like that. I’m not giving this necklace, but I have some other things - you know - as a ‘welcome to Sarlat’ gift.”

George raised an eyebrow, clearly conflicted. His hand reached up to the small bandage on his neck, where the blade had rested the day before. He knew Dream was coming back, but he hadn’t expected him coming back with a gift. “A gift?”

“Yeah, you don’t need t-to accept it,” The blond was talking fast, mouth barely able to keep up with his brain, and gesturing with his hands as he talked. “It’s just a couple of things I found laying around.” That wasn’t exactly true. As soon as he had woken up he had scoured the house, looking for anything he could give. Eventually he had an entire box filled with random junk.

“I didn’t really have a lot of old stuff, but I have some books? Oh, I also found this set of cutlery and it’s quite old-“

“Dream, it’s okay, don’t worry about it.” Dream looked up at the brunette. He had a friendly smile on his face, a shimmer in his eye, a warm hand resting on Dream’s shoulder. “Take a seat, I’ll have look at what you’ve brought.”

George began rummaging through the box and Dream made sure to look anywhere but the man’s hands. He noticed that store was a bit tidier than the day before, the shelves against cerulean walls cleaned, no longer having a layer of dust on them.

“A disc?” George turned the disc in his hand, brushing over the lines where the needle was supposed to be. It had a name written on it, _Mellohi._

“Let’s see what else we have.” Dream heard the brunette placing the books on the table, but he still refused to look at him. He didn’t know why he couldn’t look George in the eyes.

It just was something about him. He had this energy that made him come back. Back in the day he would have never done something like this, apologizing and even giving something. Back in the day he would have moved on, no guilt whatsoever. It would have been part of his life, hurting others and not caring about what happened to them afterwards.

The panicked look in George’s eyes had made his lungs burn with guilt. George was too sweet and innocent for him. Dream didn’t even feel like he was worthy of being in the presence of this almost angelic being. Something truly magical.

The sound of Mellohi playing brought him back to yesterday. All his memories after he left George’s store were hazy. How had the stranger made it into his house? Why did he keep seeing that stranger? At this point their meetings just felt like a fever dream.

“I like this song so far.” A soft voice brought him back to the present. Dream looked at George for the first time that day. He was stunning, breath-taking, standing next to an old phonograph that was playing the disc. Dream didn’t say anything about the way the other looked, though.

“That’s a bit old fashioned isn’t it? There are newer models out there.” Dream tried to stop the proud smile from forming on his face when George started laughing. He hadn’t meant it as a joke, but it made George laugh, and that was all that mattered right now,

“This is literally an antique store.” The other said between giggles.

“Yeah, well, I just thought that, you know-”

“I’m joking, Dream, calm down!” The masked man felt his face glow, a blush appearing on his cheeks. Thank god he was wearing his mask and George couldn’t see him right now.

‘’Seriously, thank you, it means a lot that you came back.”

Dream hummed and nodded his head, hand rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. A pair of arms around his waist surprised him.

Oh, he hadn’t been expecting that.

He had been to occupied looking anywhere but George to notice the other walking towards him with his arms stretched out. The sudden touch made Dream tense up and he prayed that George didn’t notice it. George, who had his hands tangled in the back of his button up. George, who had nuzzled his head into Dream’s chest. The blond just stood there, frozen, unable to move, while he felt how his face got even hotter.

 _George was hugging him_. This man that he had met barely twenty four hours ago, was hugging him. All because of a few books and a disc.

George had _definitely_ noticed the taller tense up. The way his entire body froze, barely daring to breathe. “Sorry if that made you uncomfortable, I’m just a very touchy person.”

George let the other go from his tight grip. Dream immediately breathed out, no longer holding his breath. “It’s okay, I just wasn’t expecting it, I guess.”

It wasn’t okay.

Dream knew that George hadn’t meant to do it, and just wanted to show his appreciation. But it scared Dream. It was just a hug, but it made him vulnerable. George could have a dagger hidden in his sleeve, sliding it out behind Dream’s back. He could have aimed for his heart with said dagger. He could have. But he didn’t.

“Take a seat, Dream, I wanted to chat!”

George was already sitting at the small table in the middle of the store, sliding a steaming cup towards the blond with a pleasant smile on his face. He took a deep breath, this was why he came back, to apologize. He could leave any time. The door was only a few meters behind him, he could always walk away.

The cup of tea warmed his always cold hands. Dream gave George a shaky smile before remembering that the other couldn’t see him. He shifted in his seat and gulped before saying:

“I just felt guilty.”

George took a sip from his own cup and gave Dream a wide smile that lit his entire face. “I know.”

Dream hummed, not knowing what to say. He really had no idea what to do in a situation like this. He knew that George was the one that offered him tea, and wanted to chat, but about _what_?

“So, how has your day been so far?”

Dream was convinced time didn’t exist in George’s antique store. It was as if he blinked and suddenly the sun was setting, bathing the store in a golden glow. George’s tired eyes glittering in the honey light, cinnamon eyes dripping with kindness and laughter.

He had noticed how bright and lively George really was, and how the bare minimum could paint a smile on that gorgeous face. Dream found himself exaggerating childhood stories, trying to make them as funny as he could. Anything to see that grin.

They had talked about a lot, getting through an entire kettle of tea during the conversation. At one point George had made a stupid joke that had them both in tears from laughing. It made him feel alive again, like he was an actual person instead of the usual shell of a human being. God, did it feel nice to laugh again.

“I think I should close the store in a few,” George said. Dream tried to not be disappointed, but it was hard not to. He could talk the entire night to this man. Sure, George still acted a bit weird sometimes, but that was okay, since Dream knew he was also like that.

Apparently George had moved because he came from an unpleasant town. He claimed the people were turning mad in his old village. One day it had become too much and he had left, and had travelled around ever since. When Dream asked what happened to his family, he kept quiet, mumbling something about them not wanting to go. Dream accepted the answer.

When the blond stood, about to leave, he remembered another reason why he came there. The weight of the dagger against his thigh was crushing him with guilt. A bitter feeling washed over him again. He couldn’t describe it. This sense of dread, having to confront someone that he thought was so _kind._ Such a kind soul, he almost forgot the sorrowful reality. George had given him this dagger against his will. How didn’t he notice? Sure, it was _just_ a dagger. But the way it had seemed to appear in his house made him feel creeped out, foul. It had reminded him of that evening a year ago.

Was it a warm pewter? Maybe slate fitted it more, a smoky silver even.

It didn’t matter what colour this feeling was, though, because it was turning _red._

“Aren’t you missing something, _Georgie_?” Dream managed to mutter, trying hard to keep the flames licking at his lungs from escaping.

“I don’t think so?”

“You sure about that?” He said, taking a slow step towards the brunet, hand resting on the cool metal resting against his thigh. He straightened his back, trying to seem taller. Situations like this needed to be handled with confidence, poise.

George merely laughed, immediately seeing through this façade. “You’re not as tough as you think you are.”

“Care to explain this?” Dream ignored how that comment stinged. Instead, he took the dagger out of its sheath, watching as the emeralds twinkled in the setting sun. “Funny how I get home and suddenly I find _this.”_

Lungs ablaze, burgundy flames flickering. Fire falling from the tongue.

“Hey, Dream, calm down. Let’s talk about this, rationally.” Pale but warm hands were set on his shoulders, skin tingling where the contact was made. “Take a breath.”

How on earth could Dream breathe when George was touching him?

“I’m sorry okay? I just really wanted to give it to you, I shouldn’t have, sorry if it freaked you out.”

Those dark eyes were keeping Dream’s gaze locked and the soft look in them was too much. He turned the dagger around, handle towards the other, and gave it to him. George shook his head, pushing the dagger away from him. “You can keep it.”

Dream sighed. “It’s not like me to be so mean, I promise.”

“I believe you dream, I believe you.”

It was cold and Dream found himself shivering. He really should have grabbed his coat before going out here. It was too late now, already bare feet on the wet sand. The cold made his toes ache, but he couldn’t care.

Dream could see him, the stranger, he was sitting on the ground. He had his feet in the water. Dream had no idea why, since it was _freezing_.

“Hello again.”

Even though this was only the third time seeing the man, his presence had become something he would seek for. He was curious about this man, knowing nothing about him. He was mysterious, and he knew it. He knew how Dream would come back to him, time and time again.

The stranger was wearing that stupid hat again, that hid his face. Dream couldn’t judge, hand brushing over the mask he was wearing. Moments like these were something sacred, there was no judgement, no identity. Just two strangers in the night, basking in each other’s presence. It had something beautiful about it. How two people could meet like this, help each other without even knowing it. Because Dream didn’t know how the stranger would look out for the masked man, the man roaming around town wearing a green cloak.

“Do you think it’s true? The whole thing about the ‘land behind the sea’” Dream spoke up. He had read about it and it had been bugging him ever since. The land where there is no thing such as sorrow, a peaceful haven for wounded travellers to stay. It was probably not true, everybody knew that there was nothing behind the sea, nothing besides the edge of the world. Nobody has ever seen it, or came back to tell others about this place. Dream didn’t know what to think about this legend, but it was fun to talk with others about it. 

No reaction.

“Giving me the silent treatment, huh?

Again, no reaction.

The stranger was looking at him, Dream could see the slight shimmer of eyes on him. “Oh, come on now, give me something, you talked the first night? Why won’t you talk to me?”

No reaction

The flames flicked in Dream’s stomach again, licking his insides with fiery rage. Why was he always angry these days?

“Couldn’t sleep again?” The other mumbled.

So now he was talking to him? Dream huffed in disbelief, shaking his head. “Well, I couldn’t, but I asked you something.”

The stranger stood up, taking a few steps into the sea and watched how the icy waves licked at his ankles. Dream didn’t follow him. He took a few more steps, water now reaching his knees. It was an amazing feeling, to be able to grit his teeth and ignore the biting cold. Others thought it was weird, Dream included, but he never really gave a damn about the weather.

“Why aren’t you talking to me, what did I do? Answer me!” Dream raised his voice, making the other tense. He was quickly getting sick of this stranger and his mind games. He didn’t even mean to meet this guy, and he would have been _fine_ without him. But then the man wouldn’t leave his head after that first meeting, haunting him. He’d see someone in a matching hat and he would wonder if it was the stranger, he would catch glimpses in the corner of his eyes of a man that _could_ be him. Everyone could be him, he could be a normal person in a crowd, it could be someone Dream held dearly – which didn’t seem likely these days, so it wasn’t someone he knew – and even that’s what scares him the most. The anonymity.

This stranger was just like George, always in the back of his mind these last few days. Dream hated that. Everyone was messing with him, and he just gave into their little games.

The stranger laughed at Dream getting angry. That’s the Dream he had started to know, the rage filled insomniac. And he knew that Dream knew that _something_ was going on here, but until he found out, he could have some fun with him. While chuckling with his familiar laugh into his hand, he turned to the green-cloaked man.

“What’s with all these questions? We both know there’s only one reason you’re here.”

“No, we don’t?” Dream lied. He didn’t want to admit it but this man gave him rest, no matter how annoying he was. After the last two visits, he had slept soundly, getting more sleep in the last two days than the entire week. How this man did it, he had no idea, but he made his mind calm, violet.

The man was walking towards him, adjusting the hat that bathed his face in shadows. The mask resting on Dream’s face got pulled down a little, showing off his forehead. Thin fingers travelled over the newly exposed skin, sending shivers down Dream’s back. Warmth filled his chest, heart swelling and lungs breathing in a soft aroma. A symphony behind his closed eyes, back of his eyelids spotted with colours. The earth was spinning under the strangers touch. Legs too tired to hold Dream up, so he let himself fall to his knees. Sleep was overtaking him.

“Stop, I don’t- just answer my question-”

The stranger shushed him, tutting at the man that was now laying in the sand. “It’s okay, I’m just helping you.”

“I don’t- I’m scared-”

‘’Goodnight, Dream.”

The other ruffled Dream’s hair, before standing up and walking away.

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: this idea used to be a Ryden fanfic (Panic! at the Disco)


End file.
